


Midnight Run

by Mako_Octo



Series: Yin/ Yang Ricks [4]
Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Midnight Run, Other, Yin and Yang Rick, yang rick - Freeform, yin rick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2020-09-28 07:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mako_Octo/pseuds/Mako_Octo
Summary: Yin and Yang have an argument. Yang goes out into the night to blow off steam. One might say, he finds himself out there.





	Midnight Run

**Author's Note:**

> *a warning, blood, for the queasy, but not violence, also some cursing*

They had an argument. Yin was angry that Yang had once again lectured Morty harshly about going into his room. Morty had gone in there to try to use Yang's weights, desperate to bulk up and be more like him. However, Morty who had zero experience using that kind of equipment, who also had more plant cells than muscle cells in his entire body, without supervision, could have broken something, or worse, injured himself. Yang's scolding led to Morty crying, and running into Yin’s arms. 

“Why can’t you see that he just wants to be like you?” He shouted at Yang, losing his temper, which didn’t happen often.

“If he wants to be like me, he can fucking ask me! Going into my room without my permission is off limits already, without him touching my things!” Yang shouted back. Yin pressed his fists into his forehead.

“Because he’s afraid of you! You make him feel like he can’t do anything right! He needs you to be his grandfather, not his coach!” Yin’s eyes began to fill with tears as his frustration reached its climax. The tears reminded Yang of how aggressive he could be. He wanted to shout back, but seeing his partner in pain, made him feel defeated, powerless. 

Yang pushed past Yin, careful not to hurt him in the process, but part of him wanted Yin to know that he was upset. An immature gesture, he knew it, but feeling this low, he didn’t care. He grabbed his running shoes, and stormed out into the trails outside. He could hear Yin calling after him, but his own pride forced him to ignore him. 

Though the sun was already setting, Yang ran into the woods, following a trail he knew that Yin didn’t know about. He ran until the dark tree tops blended into the evening sky. He ran until his legs burned and his lungs were on fire. He ran until his muscles collapsed and sweat dripped off his skin like rain. He fell to his knees and pushed his palms into the dirt. His chest heaved rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, coughing occasionally from the cool air. 

Why is he so stupid? Why couldn’t he tell Yin what he really wanted to tell him? Why couldn’t he let himself be gentle and welcoming like Yin? Why couldn’t he allow his family to love him? He punched the ground. Again. And again. As hard as he could, digging his fists into the soil, creating a deep pit before him. Shouting nonsense, tears began to pour down his cheeks, falling into the hole. 

His knuckles stung as the rocks and grit torn open his flesh. Blood and dirt stuck to his wounds, making Yang happy that he felt pain, just like he has bestowed on his family. Yang sat back on his feet, letting his hands drop to his sides, and his chin fell to his chest. Breathing deeply, Yang pondered his purpose for staying, why was he burdening them so much. Lifting his face up to the sky, Yang saw the moon, bright and looming above him. He thought of Yin. He needed to apologize. For everything. He needed to tell him that him leaving would be the best thing for everyone. Yang owed their friendship that much. It at least would give him a chance to see him again. More tears streamed down Yang’s cheeks. 

His hike back was long, and the moon grew brighter as time drug on. Yang couldn’t see very well at night, not like Yin. The moon gave him enough light to see that a tree was in front of him, but the trail became invisible. He could have been walking in a straight line or in circles, being as upset as he was, he couldn’t tell which. 

Occasionally slipping on ledges and roots, Yang could feel blood dripping down his legs, beneath his ripped sweats. Getting more and more frustrated that he couldn’t find his way back, Yang began to jog down the mountain, hoping that he’d eventually be out of the forest. One step had a short, but sudden drop that pitched Yang forward. Reaching forward in hopes of catching himself, his head smashed into a low branch, collapsing down unconscious. 

Opening his eyes, pain and pressure throbbed through his skull. All Yang could see above him was the moon peeking between dark trees. He reached up and felt a sticky, wetness across his forehead that continued down his face. 

“Fuuuuuuck…” Yang groaned, slowly pushing himself up. His body was stiff and sore, he practically fell down the mountain. He felt dizzy as he tried to stand up, falling back to the ground before he could.

“Yaa--ng!” He heard far out in the distance. “Yaang!” It was getting closer. 

Yang looked out toward the sound, noticing a floating orb of light sweeping back and forth. It was calling his name, was this his death? Was he bleeding to death? Or hallucinating from the head trauma? He watched it, hoping secretly for the former. 

“Yang!” Yin focused his flashlight on the toppled figured in the mud. Seeing the flash of red from blood, Yin began to sprint to his friend’s aid. “Yang!!”

Yin slid to his knees in front of Yang, dropping the light beside them. His hands hovered over Yang’s face, shocked to see how much damage he had done to himself. Yang blinked slowly up at Yin, still unsure if he was dying or not. He weakly reached up and placed a hand on Yin’s cheek. Yin’s hand clasped over it. Tears welled in his eyes as he examined Yang’s assaulted face and body under the moonlight. 

“Yang, why? Why must you do this every time?” Yin whispered, squeezing Yang’s hand against his cheek, ignoring the fact that he has never touched him this way. Yang just stared up at him, ashamed to tell the dark Rick what his intentions were upon his return. He bowed his head in guilt.

“I-I’m sorry… Yin.” Yang whispered. Yin slipped his shoulder underneath Yang’s arm and tried to wrap his around him, though Yin’s arm was barely long enough to reach the other side of Yang’s wide body.

Yin began to lift Yang up to his feet, slowly to mind the scrapes and cuts over his body. Yang wanted to fight, to push him away, to show that he was strong enough to walk on his own, but the pain and embarrassment of his actions took the aggression out of him. 

It took them twenty painful minutes for Yin to assist the limping Yang back to the house. He wasn’t very far from home. Morty met them at the door, taken aback when he saw his grandfather covered in blood. Yin smiled and assured him that Yang was fine and that he would tend to him tonight. Morty smiled, but watched Yang, worried, wondering what could have happened to him.

Yin led Yang to his bedroom, and gently seated him on his bed. He rushed out and returned with a first aid. He began to wipe the blood off Yang’s forehead, revealing that it was only an inch long laceration. Yang’s head was still spinning so he reached out and placed his hands on Yin’s shoulders, steadying himself. He tried to focus on Yin, watching as he meticulously  cared for his injuries. Yin held Yang’s face in his hand, the short beard on his chin prickling his palm. Yin tried to ignore the gentle shocks it sent up his arm to finally feel Yang’s facial hair.

After sewing in a couple stitches to close the cut, Yin placed a small bandage over the damaged skin on his forehead. Then he picked up a warm, wet washcloth and began to clean the minor scrapes on Yang’s elbows and palms. Holding his hand, palm up in his own, Yin gently wiped away the dirt and blood that covered Yang’s hand. Seeing his hand in Yin’s made Yang remember his faults and how careless his words often seem.

“Yin, I-I…” Yang tried swallowing a lump that kept returning in his throat. His hands began to shake as he forced his emotions down. Yin held them tighter, reassuring him. “I’m sorry for being a real f-fuck up. I don’t want to keep hurting you a-and Morty.” Yin continued cleaning his wounds, but glanced up to look at Yang, waiting for him to say more.

“It might b-be best, f-for both of you if I left.” He sighed, looking away from Yin, knowing that once again, he would be hurting him.

“Absolutely not.” Yin growled. Yang snapped his head back to Yin. His eyes were piercing and angry, a response Yang was not expecting. He stared at him confused, why wouldn’t he agree?

“Why not? What do I have to offer? If anything? I just hurt you, and Morty!” Yang argued back, head starting to hurt again from his volume. Yin grabbed his least hurt hand in his fists and squeezed. He waited until Yang was looking him in the eyes.

“We always need you. You are Morty’s grandfather. He looks up to you, he admires you. You are leading him to be like you. What would he think if you just up and left?” Yin’s face was flushed as tears built up and slowly began to stream down his cheeks. Yang watched the tears fall, each one an instance of guilt. Hurting Yin was more painful than the throbbing in his head could ever be. Yang wanted to embrace him, hold him close and promise that he would be the best grandpa that he could be. Swear to never make Yin cry tears like that again. But knowing what little he had to offer him, pushed him away.

“And what am I to you?” Yang demanded, certain that Yin wouldn’t be able to answer. Yin seemed flustered, he blushed brighter and stared down at his hands wrapped around his larger friend’s palm. Yang stared at him, partly waiting for a response, partly knowing that he wouldn't be able to answer.

“You-you’re my friend. You are my biggest inspiration. You make me fe-feel safe and you push us- me to do the best that I can do every day.” He looked up to Yang, shaking timidly as he confessed his feelings. Yang sat very still, making sure that he was understanding what this beautiful man was expressing to him. “I wan-need you in my life. Nothing makes sense without you.” Yang felt his strength returning as Yin spoke. His body felt warmer, Yin felt it between his palms. He stared up to his friend, knowing that he was returning to normal. 

Yang smiled to the other Rick, thankful to have someone in his life that cares for him this way, that wants him to succeed as much as Yang wanted himself to. How much longer will he hide how much he wanted him? Maybe he could have a purpose in this amazing man’s world.

“Are you back, my friend?” Yin asked, squeezing his hand again. 

“Almost.” Yang replied, reaching out with his other hand and wrapping it behind Yin’s head. Before he could protest or Yang could chicken out, he leaned forward and kissed Yin. He kept his lips soft, but pressed hard, as if he could absorb him through this skin. He held him there, savoring this moment as it likely wouldn’t come again. 

When he pulled away, both Ricks were out of breath. Yang looked at Yin, who stared back dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he has once again gone too far. Before he could explain his need to think before his actions, Yin was in his arms. He pressed his lips against Yang’s and pushed his chest into him. Yin wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Yang’s hands gripped Yin’s long hair as he opened his mouth, inviting Yin’s tongue into his.

Yin poured himself over Yang’s body, pushing him back onto the bed, and crawling up on top of him. Yang’s hand moved down to his love’s waist and held him close, aligning his long body against his own while he tangled the fingers on his other hand in Yin’s long hair, locking his face there. 

Yin and Yang turned their heads as they explored each other’s mouths, occasionally scraping their teeth from the new experience. Finally out of breath, Yin pushed forcefully away from Yang, planting his hands on either side of Yang’s face on the bed. The men watched each other, panting as if they had been running a marathon. Yang was mesmerized by Yin’s expression. He was looking at Yang, but it was different. He had never seen Yin look at him the way that he was right then. He imagined it was how his face was when he was watched Yin. Seeing it in the dark Rick’s beautiful face was like a dream.

Realizing that Yang was staring at him, Yin giggled, causing Yang to snap out of his amazement and smile back. Releasing his hair, Yang moved his hand down to cup Yin’s cheek. Yin pressed his face into it, sighing as if a weight has finally been lifted.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long.” Yang admitted, grazing his thumb across Yin’s porcelain skin. Yin smiled before leaning down to plant a quick kiss on his newly realized love. 

“I’ve been here this whole time, knucklehead.” Yin teased gently. Yang chuckled. He was right. He has been there this whole time. For every painful moment and every happy one, he was always there. Yin kissed him again, pressing hard enough to make Yang’s eyelids close. He hadn’t known that he was crying until the tears rolled down the sides of his face. 

When Yin pulled away, he rested his head on Yang’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Yin’s body fit against Yang’s as if they were cut from the same cloth all. Kissing him felt natural; it was an insult that they hadn’t been this way all along. Yang wrapped his arms around him, becoming the shield that he was meant to be.

“I’ll never leave you again.” Yang promised, feeling for the first time, that sense of peace that he had always longed for, but could never reach. Yin felt it too and clung to Yang tighter.

“You better not.” Yin teased, smiling when he felt Yang’s chest bubble with a short laugh. Yang may have laughed, but he was serious. He would never leave this man, or their grandson again, no matter what. Life didn’t make sense without them, and now, it doesn’t make sense to go back to how things were before. Finally, harmony had overcame their mountain.


End file.
